You decide to visit the Golden Cup Inn.
You quickly wind up on the Gilded Street, which cleaves through the trade district, as passerbies provide you directions to the place; a three-story building with windows made of actual glass and the brick walls, while evident, have been covered with white coat of plaster. This must be a rich place for rich patrons.
Your briefly wonder if this is truly an inn for your current budget of few dozen Ducats...
You step inside, if only to check the prices. Many tables and chairs of bright timber are arranged in a circle about the spacious hall, and at the back a staircase is leading upstairs. The bar is tended by a large and fat, balding man in white apron and leather jacket. He is currently joking about something with pair of two city guards, who must be off-duty, or perhaps came in for a little snack.
At this time of day, there isn't many patrons; a bard seated in far corner is idly plucking away at and adjusting his lute. Two boys, dressed in chainmail and dark blue cloth, both about your age, are quietly eating a meal of chicken and bread. A balding man with glasses is currently leaning over a piece of parchment, muttering to himself and scribbling away at it with a piece of charcoal.
Whatever shall you do, young Squire?